Cats in the Cradle
by McKay
Summary: Clem's in need of a place to crash-along with some fuzzy friends.
1. Cats in the Cradle, ch 1

TITLE Cats in the Cradle   
AUTHORMcKay  
E-MAILBaybeeJuneaol.com, BaybeeJune on AIM   
RATINGPG-13 for language and bathroom humor, heck, let's call it R just to be safe.  
SPOILERSNone  
PAIRINGT/W is vaguely mentioned, a little bit of T/B for the fun of it, Spike/Clem implied   
SUMMARYClem's in need of a place to crash-along with some fuzzy friends.   
DISCLAIMERI don't own Tara, Buffy, Dawn, Clem, Spike, Willow, Sunnydale, CA, or anything worth suing for. Joss Whedon, Marti Noxious, et al, do. I do own the cats, a ruthlessly overactive imagination, a juvenile sense of humor and old sneakers.   
ARCHIVING/DISTRIBUTION Want it, take it, have it, just tell me where you wanna put it.   
FEEDBACKHonestly, I love it, but in the case of this story, it's not meant to be great, it's not meant to be an accurate representation of these characters (in fact it's meant to make fun of them, because I really don't like them right now). So you really don't need to point out what a ridiculous parody it is. It's SUPPOSED to be. That's all I'm saying. However, opinions are definitely welcome. Flames will be posted all around the Internet with your name attached so that people can laugh at you. Then I will send out my chocobo to hunt you down maim you. Kiwano _likes_ the feel of human flesh between his talons, don't you, boy? And we both despise flamers.  
AUTHOR'S NOTESI've always wondered what would send St. Tara to the breaking point...and I do so love Clem...anyway, like I said, it's a parody. Thanks to Miss Ellie for being my sounding board and a terrible influence ;) I think I had a reason for making Buffy a raging homophobe, but this fic got lost for a year, and by the time I found it again, I'd completely forgotten. But it's still making me laugh, so what the hell, eh? Probably something to do with how self-obsessed Buffy was being when I wrote this fic...and just because she was ticking me off and, again, this made me laugh. This is supposed to be exaggerated and somewhat ridiculous.   
  
Only in Sunnydale.  
Only in Sunnydale would you be awakened at four am on a weeknight by pounding at the door, have the foresight to grab a wooden stake before answering the door, and finding a demon that was the probable lovechild of Mr. Clean and a Shar-Pei. A demon who was holding a large cardboard box. A large cardboard box that was making suspicious whimpering noises.  
"Clem?" Tara rubbed her eyes.   
"Uh, hey, Tara, can I crash on the couch tonight?"  
"It's four in the morning...what...come in..." Tara ushered the loosely-complected demon inside. "Clem, why are you here? Did something happen at the crypt? Is Spike okay?"   
Clem looked at Tara morosely. "I can't sleep there. Spike and I aren't speaking."  
"Did you two have a fight?"   
Clem's ears drooped dejectedly. "Spike ate Bourbon."  
Tara blinked. "Spike got drunk? That's why?"  
"No, he _ate_ Bourbon. My cat." Tears filled the demon's limpid brown eyes.   
"Ohh. I'm so-"  
"And he said he thought it was _his_ kitten, but Bourbon was the only black one in all of our winnings tonight. That's why I called him Bourbon. He was the darkest of the dark kitties."  
Tara did her best to look sympathetic, but she was tired, confused, and mightily tempted to burst into laughter. Sure, she felt bad about the cat, but...  
"Tara? Who was at the door?" Dawn wandered downstairs. "Oh...hi, Clem."  
Clem nodded to Dawn, continuing his rant. "And this has happened before...last week, I came home, and got this _lovely_ surprise," He continued sarcastically. "I come home to discover that Spike ate Dick!"  
"Tara..?" Dawn looked apprehensively towards the stairs.   
"Oh dear, no...no, he didn't, what I meant was, he ate my pussy, I mean, my _cat_, Dick...Emily Dickinson."   
"You named your cat Emily Dickinson?"  
"It was a theme...see, I name the kittens in themes, and it was famous dead poets, and Emily Dickinson turned out to be a boy, so...tonight's babies were all named for good liquor." A faint meow came from the box resting on Clem's lap.  
"Er, that wouldn't be...the rest of the pot, would it?"  
Clem bent over the box protectively. "I couldn't leave them for Spike to finish off like so many McNuggets!"  
Dawn perked up. "Kittens! Can I see them?"   
Tara dropped her head into her hands. "In the kitchen. Where there's no carpet. Go put down newspaper-_old_ newspaper, not stuff that we haven't read yet. Keep the doors _closed_. We don't need an infestation of kittens. And put a knot in the phone cord so nobody hangs themselves."   
Dawn trotted off and Clem looked at the floor, slightly apologetic. "I'm sorry to spring these little guys on you, really, but I couldn't leave them behind...they're my pets. I need to find them homes. It's what I do...it's my thing." Tara smiled despite herself. "It's fine, Clem. I like cats...I had a cat. It's just a surprise...now c'mon, let's go let these little fuzzballs stretch their legs."   
Dawn was waiting impatiently when they got there and she helped them lower the carton and lift the flaps back. Five bundles of fluff and whiskers scrambled out, shaking their heads and stretching. Clem pointed, "That's Kahlua, the little calico is Merlot, the gray-and-white one is Vodka, that's Tequila chasing his tail, and the sort of orangey-tan little fella with creamy paws-he's my favorite-is Schnapps."   
Dawn lay on her stomach and tickled Vodka's charcoal-gray ears. The kitten responded by tapping her cheek with his tiny paw. "You are so cute! Yes you are! You _are_!" Tara rolled her eyes with a tolerant smile before sitting down beside her, picking up Tequila and plopping him on her shoulder. "You _are_ pretty sweet, huh?" The kitten licked her nose in reply. "Oh, well, hello!"   
Clem smiled knowingly. "Watch out for that one. He's a flirt." He picked up Schnapps and let the kitten bat at his ears. "Ow, hey, claws in! Claws in!" He gently dumped the animal on the floor. Schnapps promptly skittered off to pounce on Merlot. His sister arched her back and smacked him on the nose with her paw in a fair approximation of a bitchslap.   
Dawn laughed out loud. Tara snuggled Tequila under her chin. She yelped in surprise when ten tiny claws dug into her skin as the kitchen door banged open.  
"Hey guys, you're still awa-Dawn? Tara? Why are there kittens in my kitchen?" Buffy yawned, looking perplexed, worn out and more than a little annoyed. "Oh...hi, Clem. Good hand?"  
"Yeah...aces and queens."   
"Mmm." Buffy smiled politely. "But nobody has explained why there are kittens in my kitchen. Dawn?"  
"Uh...Tara? Help?"  
Buffy groaned. "No, wait, I don't even _want_ to know, just...pack them up and get them out! Take them home...or wherever you take your kittens."   
Clem looked sheepish. "I, er, can't...see, Spike and I aren't speaking right now. The kitties and I are sort of temporarily homeless."  
"And so you decided my kitchen was a good place to crash?"   
"Buffy, wait..." Tara pried Schnapps and Kahlua from the legs of her lounge pants and stood, moving carefully towards Buffy. "I told him he could crash on the couch...I didn't know he had cats at the time, but...he doesn't have anywhere else to go."  
"Yeah, I'm sorry to impose, but...well, Sophie's allergic to cats and most of my other friends will make Snackwells of the little guys..."  
"And we couldn't let him take them to be eaten!" Dawn chimed in, carefully standing up next to Tara, a groggy Vodka in her arms. "Look how cute they are, Buffy! They're just little...it's cruel to feed them to vampires! They don't even have a fighting chance. They're too tiny!"   
"Dawn..." Buffy rubbed her forehead. "I'm not a cat person, especially not after a night of vampire, er, slaying. I appreciate the sentiment, but we're not zoned for cats. We have no food for them, no litter box-"  
"Oh, I brought kibble," Clem piped up cheerfully. "Kitten chow. Special formula for their little tummies."  
"And we put down paper in case they gotta do their business." Dawn held out the gray kitten to her sister. "Come on, Buffy, it's just one night..."  
"Well..." Buffy hedged. "They are sorta cute." She took Vodka and held him against her chest. "Aw, he's purring! Hi, little-_ew_!" She hurriedly handed the kitten back to Dawn and stared down at her shirt in dismay. "Oh, you're so lucky this wasn't new, hairball."   
"He didn't mean it! He's just a baby, Buffy. Just a teeny, helpless baby."  
"Yeah, Buffy..." Tara turned on the Slayer with her best puppy eyes. "They just need a place to bunk for the night. Just a few hours. They're so little, how much trouble can they be?"  
Buffy began to pull her shirt over her head, ignoring the matters of the minor, the male demon and the lesbian in the room with her. "Fine, fine, whatever, _one_ night. But we are _not_ keeping them. Not one of them, not all of them, _none of them_, do you understand me?"  
"Yes, Buffy," They chorused, each smiling beatifically at her, a kitten in their arms. Buffy shook her head and headed upstairs to shower. 

----------------------------- 

There's plenty more if people want it, this just seemed like a good place to stop for now. R&R if you feel like it! 


	2. Cats in the Cradle, ch 2

**TITLE** Cats in the Cradle   
**AUTHOR** McKay  
**E-MAIL** BaybeeJune at aol.com, BaybeeJune on AIM   
**RATING** PG-13 for language and bathroom humor, heck, let's call it R just to be safe.  
**SPOILERS** None  
**PAIRING** T/W is vaguely mentioned, a little bit of T/B for the fun of it, Spike/Clem implied   
**SUMMARY** Clem's in need of a place to crash-along with some fuzzy friends.   
**DISCLAIMER** I don't own Tara, Buffy, Dawn, Clem, Spike, Willow, Sunnydale, CA, or anything worth suing for. Joss Whedon, Marti Noxious, et al, do. I do own the cats, a ruthlessly overactive imagination, a juvenile sense of humor and old sneakers.   
**ARCHIVING/DISTRIBUTION** Want it, take it, have it, just tell me where you wanna put it.   
**FEEDBACK** Honestly, I love it, but in the case of this story, it's not meant to be great, it's not meant to be an accurate representation of these characters (in fact it's meant to make fun of them, because I really don't like them right now). So you really don't need to point out what a ridiculous parody it is. It's _supposed_ to be. That's all I'm saying. However, opinions are definitely welcome. Flames will be posted all around the Internet with your name attached so that people can laugh at you. Then I will send out my chocobo to hunt you down maim you. Kiwano likes the feel of human flesh between his talons, don't you, boy? And we both despise flamers.  
**AUTHOR'S NOTES** I've always wondered what would send St. Tara to the breaking point...and I do so love Clem...anyway, like I said, it's a parody. Thanks to Miss Ellie for being my sounding board and a terrible influence ;) I think I had a reason for making Buffy a raging homophobe, but this fic got lost for a year, and by the time I found it again, I'd completely forgotten. But it's still making me laugh, so what the hell, eh? Probably something to do with how self-obsessed Buffy was being when I wrote this fic, sometime in season sux...and just because she was ticking me off and, again, it made me laugh. This is supposed to be exaggerated and somewhat ridiculous.   
  
"It's morning. And there are still kittens in my house. And now they're on the carpet." Buffy sighed. "Why are there cats in the living room now?"  
  
"Vodka had another little accident. The explosive kind. Tara's bathing him upstairs, and Clem's mopping, but the kittens got in the way and we didn't need little icky paw prints all over the place..." Dawn shrugged. "So, kitties in the living room. Wanna hold Merlot? She's sleepy, so you have to be kinda still, but she likes it when you-"   
  
Buffy held up her hand. "No, I don't want to hold...wait, what are their names?"  
  
"Oh, that's Schnapps playing with the extension cord, the brown one is Kahlua and Merlot's the calico on the sofa."  
  
"Uh...huh. Wait, aren't there more?"  
  
"Tara's giving Vodka a bath upstairs, remember?"  
  
"Right, the one that peed on me. And the other one?"  
  
"That's Tequila. He followed Tara upstairs. He likes her."  
  
"Great. That's just great." Buffy stood up. "Okay, I can't think. I need food."  
  
"You don't wanna go in there until Clem's done. Trust me."  
  
Buffy moaned. "Okay, then, shower."

"Shower?" Tara looked mildly concerned.  
  
Buffy looked at Tara patiently. "You know the big tub behind you? That has a hosey thing attached to it that sprays water, and sometimes people-"  
  
"No, I got that part, but I'm a little busy here." Tara nodded to the handful of squirming, damp kitten she was trying vainly to hold under the sink's faucet.   
  
"Tara, I need to shower so I can go to work-"  
  
"Go ahead. I just need the sink." Tara concentrated on aiming the pump on the hand soap at the kitten's rear end.  
  
"I can't shower while you're in here! It's not..."  
  
"Honey," Tara said patiently, "there's a shower curtain, I'm not going to look, and I can't really stop in the middle of something like this."  
  
Buffy nodded, mentally counting to ten. "Great, just...yeah. Have you seen my hair towel?" She asked, scanning the bathroom. "I left it on the rack by the tub, but now..."  
  
"Oh, uh, you mean this one?" Tara sheepishly held up a soggy terrycloth square spotted with suds, cat hair and stuff Buffy didn't even want to think about.   
  
"Yeah, that'd be it." Buffy ground her teeth.   
  
"Well, I just did laundry yesterday. You can use mine-it's clean. Haven't used it yet."   
  
"Great. Just...great." Buffy stepped outside the door and hesitantly began to strip. "Um, Tara? Could you close your eyes?"  
  
"Not if I want to keep all my fingers. Buffy, I promise I won't look."  
  
"So you don't want to look at me? You think I'm ugly?"  
  
"N-no, Buffy, you're beautiful, but I don't-"  
  
"Oh, god, Tara, I'm sorry, but I just can't-"  
  
Tara sighed and closed her eyes briefly. "Buffy. You do realize that you left the bathroom door open and I can see you totally naked from here, right?"  
  
"Oh my god, you _are_ looking!"   
  
Tara wrapped the tiny gray animal in Buffy's fluffy white towel. "Vodka's clean, and I think I should leave so you can shower without worry."  
  
"There's shit in the sink."  
  
"You're not planning on showering in the sink, are you?"  
  
"Well, no-"  
  
"Then you're fine," Tara snapped, cradling the kitten in her arms. "But not so fine that you need to hide. Have a great day in the grease mines."  
  
Buffy watched Tara stalk off, bewildered. _What'd I say? _


	3. Cats in the Cradle, ch 3

**TITLE** Cats in the Cradle   
**AUTHOR** McKay  
**E-MAIL** BaybeeJuneaol.com, BaybeeJune on AIM   
**RATING** PG-13 for language and bathroom humor, heck, let's call it R just to be safe.  
**SPOILERS** None  
**PAIRING** T/W is vaguely mentioned, a little bit of T/B for the fun of it, Spike/Clem implied   
**SUMMARY** Clem's in need of a place to crash-along with some fuzzy friends.   
**DISCLAIMER** I don't own Tara, Buffy, Dawn, Clem, Spike, Willow, Sunnydale, CA, or anything worth suing for. Joss Whedon, Marti Noxious, et al, do. I do own the cats, a ruthlessly overactive imagination, a juvenile sense of humor and old sneakers.   
**ARCHIVING/DISTRIBUTION** Want it, take it, have it, just tell me where you wanna put it.   
**FEEDBACK** Honestly, I love it, but in the case of this story, it's not meant to be great, it's not meant to be an accurate representation of these characters (in fact it's meant to make fun of them, because I really don't like them right now). So you really don't need to point out what a ridiculous parody it is. It's **supposed** to be. That's all I'm saying. However, opinions are definitely welcome. Flames will be posted all around the Internet with your name attached so that people can laugh at you. Then I will send out my chocobo to hunt you down maim you. Kiwano _likes_ the feel of human flesh between his talons, don't you, boy? And we both despise flamers.  
**AUTHOR'S NOTES** I've always wondered what would send St. Tara to the breaking point...and I do so love Clem...anyway, like I said, it's a parody. Thanks to Miss Ellie for being my sounding board and a terrible influence ;) I think I had a reason for making Buffy a raging homophobe, but this fic got lost for a year, and by the time I found it again, I'd completely forgotten. But it's still making me laugh, so what the hell, eh? Probably something to do with how self-obsessed Buffy was being when I wrote this fic, sometime mid-season sux...and just because she was ticking me off and, again, this made me laugh. This is supposed to be exaggerated and somewhat ridiculous.

"It's no longer morning and there are still kittens in my house. Would someone like to explain why there are _still cats in my house_?!"  
  
"Now Buffy, calm down, Clem had a small crisis-" Tara tried to speak calmly, hoping that Buffy would follow her example, but no such luck.  
  
"Oh, this is gonna be good-"  
  
"Well, he went home to try and make up with Spike, but Spike was very harsh with him, and his feelings are hurt-"  
  
"Tara! There are _cats_ crawling all over-"  
  
"You know how sensitive Clem is! I couldn't just throw him out! He's in a fragile emotional place right now!"   
  
Buffy began to unbutton her Doublemeat uniform to throw it in the washer before she went upstairs, but her efforts were hampered by a fuzzy attack muffin that seemed to love the smell of the burger grease. It clawed its way up to Buffy's shoulder and settled in to lick the fabric contentedly. "Could you, uh, do me a favor and get it off me?"  
  
Tara lifted the little striped creature, but his claws stuck fast, tugging the unfastened garment down past Buffy's shoulders.  
  
"God, Tara! I know you miss Willow when she's away at her Wicca retreats but you can't see my boobs! What is it with you lesbians? All hungering for glances at the boobs of Buffy. And if you're so in lesbian love with her, why aren't you off...retreating with her? You're Wiccan, aren't you? You should be off doing lesbian Wiccany things in the woods, not invading my home with these horrid little pussies! I mean, these...oh, I don't_ know_ what I mean!" Hugging her arms across her chest, she dashed upstairs with her uniform shirt around her waist. Tara tiredly patted the kitten she held.   
  
"She's not usually like this, cutie. I just hope she doesn't find the stain from the present your brother left on her pillow."  
  
A shrill scream broke the air. Tara raced upstairs, Tequila on her heels, to find Buffy with her face in the sink, sputtering and coughing.   
  
"There's cat piss on my pillow!"  
  
"Not anymore...it's just vinegar and water now. I think I got most of the stain out, too."  
  
"It still smells like cat piss."  
  
"Yeah, Dawn left the door at the head of the stairs open and Vodka got away from us..." Tara shrugged, not too apologetically. Buffy brushed past Tara and thundered back downstairs, pillow in hand.  
  
"_DAAAAAAAWN_! Get your _scrawny ass_ over here and _BRING THAT STUPID, UGLY LITTLE PEE MACHINE_!"   
  
Dawn timidly stuck her head into the living room. Vodka stood behind her, batting at her shoelaces. "Uh, what?"  
  
"That little shit desecrated my silk pillowcase! The silk pillowcase! Now, I'm going to give you a choice here. You can fill the sink and watch me drown it-"  
  
"Buffy..." Dawn whimpered, eyes wide.  
  
"Or you can come with me up to the roof and we'll see if it really _does_ land on its feet." Buffy made a grab for the cat, who mewed and raced back into the kitchen.   
  
"Buffy, no!" Dawn lunged for her sister, feeling grim satisfaction when her hand connected with Buffy's larynx. The satisfaction didn't last when Buffy grabbed a fistful of her shiny, shiny hair and pulled. "Ow! Bitch! You're gonna give me split ends!" Dawn backhanded the Slayer across the face. "And don't you dare hurt that cat or I will kill you in your sleep!"  
  
"Oh right, you're gonna whine me to death?" Buffy grabbed Dawn around the middle and neatly tossed her to the ground.  
  
"You two! Break it up! Quit it! Now!" Tara stood over them, hands on her hips. Merlot and Tequila scampered over and dove into the fray, tangling their claws in the Summers' hair.   
  
"Ouch! Stupid hairball!" Buffy shoved the little tiger kitten, sending it sliding across the floor into Tara's ankles.   
  
Tara bent and picked up the kitty, soothingly rubbing its tufted ears. "Poor baby. I know, the crazy ladies scared you." Tequila mewed pitifully, nuzzling Tara's neck. "Don't worry, fuzzyface, I won't let her hurt you." Tequila meowed and tapped Tara's face with her forepaws. "No, no I won't. Come on, come upstairs. You little darlings can hang out on my bed." Meanwhile, Dawn had wormed away from Buffy and was hiding behind Tara, Vodka in her arms. As an afterthought, they scooped up the remaining three cats and shut them all in Tara's room, after, of course, lining the carpet thoroughly with newspapers.


	4. Cats in the Cradle, ch 4

TITLE Cats in the Cradle   
AUTHOR McKay  
E-MAIL BaybeeJuneaol.com, BaybeeJune on AIM   
RATING PG-13 for language and bathroom humor, heck, let's call it R just to be safe.  
SPOILERS None  
PAIRING T/W is vaguely mentioned, a little bit of T/B for the fun of it, Spike/Clem implied   
SUMMARY Clem's in need of a place to crash-along with some fuzzy friends.   
DISCLAIMER I don't own Tara, Buffy, Dawn, Clem, Spike, Willow, Sunnydale, CA, or anything worth suing for. Joss Whedon, Marti Noxious, et al, do. I do own the cats, a ruthlessly overactive imagination, a juvenile sense of humor and old sneakers.   
ARCHIVING/DISTRIBUTION Want it, take it, have it, just tell me where you wanna put it.   
FEEDBACK Honestly, I love it, but in the case of this story, it's not meant to be great, it's not meant to be an accurate representation of these characters (in fact it's meant to make fun of them, because I really don't like them right now). So you really don't need to point out what a ridiculous parody it is. It's SUPPOSED to be. That's all I'm saying. I hope I managed to capture the characters' way of speaking while mangling their actual character, as was my intent. However, opinions are definitely welcome. Flames will be posted all around the Internet with your name attached so that people can laugh at you. Then I will send out my chocobo to hunt you down maim you. Kiwano _likes_ the feel of human flesh between his talons, don't you, boy? And we both despise flamers.  
AUTHOR'S NOTES I've always wondered what would send St. Tara to the breaking point...and I do so love Clem...anyway, like I said, it's a parody. Thanks to Miss Ellie for being my sounding board and a terrible influence ;) I think I had a reason for making Buffy a raging homophobe, but this fic got lost for a year, and by the time I found it again, I'd completely forgotten. But it's still making me laugh, so what the hell, eh? Probably something to do with how self-obsessed Buffy was being when I wrote this fic...and just because she was ticking me off and, again, this made me laugh. This is supposed to be exaggerated and somewhat ridiculous. This part is more like two chapters, but they're awfully short, so I just stuck 'em together.

---------------------------------------------------

"_Buffy_! Buffy, I'm gonna kill you!"   
  
Tara clamped her pillow over her head and stifled a groan. _Not even a break on the weekends.   
_  
"TARA! _TARATARATARA_!"  
  
Tara groaned. "_Whaaat_?"  
  
"She killed the cats!" Dawn shrieked, her face full of righteous fury under her shiny, shiny hair.  
  
"I did not! She's gone insane, Tara, don't listen to her!"   
  
"Oh, for crying out loud..." Tara sighed and swung her legs over the side of the bed, narrowly missing a puddle that had probably soaked through the newspaper by now. She stumbled on a passing ball of fur that squealed and licked haughtily at its injured paw. "Sorry, kitty." She mumbled, rubbing her eyes as she staggered to the stairs. "What's going on now? I was sleeping."  
  
"Merlot and Kahlua are gone! Buffy drowned them! She threw them in the river in a gunnysack and weighed it down with rocks!" Dawn wailed.  
  
"I didn't touch those stupid animals! I've been out all night patrolling! It's barely sunrise now-"  
  
"Yes, I know," Tara grumbled.  
  
"And I don't even know what the hell a gunnysack is!" Buffy finished, glowering at Dawn.  
  
"Well, they're gone and you wanted them dead! You said so!"  
  
"I wasn't going to actually do it!"  
  
"Tara, she-"  
  
"Tara, I-"  
  
"Stop it! Dawn, go look for the kittens. Did you check the basement?"  
  
"Yeah."   
  
"Look again. Buffy...take a shower and go to bed. You two have to stop fighting. These cats are just a temporary arrangement and pee stains are not forever! I am going back to bed. If it's absolutely necessary to discuss this with an adult present, come and get me there, without screaming across the house for me. And be prepared to discuss it there because I am _tired_. I was up half the night trying to finish a paper for Monday so I could spend the rest of the weekend sleeping. I didn't finish the paper because of all the drama, so I have to do that today, and I would_ like_ to finish the paper without falling asleep doing it, drooling on it, and having one of the cats come over and pee on it! Now, I am going back to bed. Does anyone have anything that must be said _right now_? This is your _last chance_." Tara folded her arms across her chest and waited.  
  
Dawn shoved Buffy. "Now look, you made her mad!"  
  
"I didn't! You're the one-"  
  
"Shut up! SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPPPPPPPP!" Tara clapped her hands over her ears and managed an impressive sprint back to her bedroom despite being nearly asleep on her feet, kittens prancing around her feet. Dawn kicked Buffy in the ankle.  
  
"See?"  
  
"Shut up, bitch."   
  
"You shut up, bitch." They stalked off to opposite corners of the house to sulk.

---------------------------------------

"_Ta-raaaa_!"   
  
Tara nearly burst into tears. _Just let me sleep! Please! _Dawn came banging into her room. "I looked everywhere and the cats are gone! She killed them!"  
  
"Dawnie, are you sure they didn't just get out when we weren't watching them carefully enough?"  
  
"Well..."  
  
"Tara!" Buffy came tearing in. "Clem left a note! He took the kittens! _See_?!"  
  
Tara groggily reached for the sheet of paper.   
  
"Dear Buffy, Tara and Dawn,  
  
Hi! I found a really cute demon couple who are looking to adopt their first cats. Richard works at a karaoke bar, which was where he met Melvin, but that's a long story. Melvin stars in a terrific drag floor show a few times a week at the transsexual-oriented bar downtown, Susan Be Anthony. You really should come sometime. I tend bar there four nights a week and on Saturday nights-just tell them Clem sent you. No cover! Anyway, you'd love them. They said if you want to visit them, Dawn, you're welcome, just call. They fell in love with Merlot right away-they so wanted a little girl!-and since I couldn't separate her and Kahlua, I didn't need to bring them by to meet the others. Buffy should be happy with this! I'll be by later with some more food and litter.   
  
Muchas Smoochas,  
  
Clem xoxoxo"  
  
"Well, that's just great," Tara yawned. "Buffy, did you shower yet?"  
  
Buffy gestured to the bathrobe wrapped around her body and the towel in her hair.  
  
"Oh, yeah, right. Um, well, maybe you should get some sleep? And Dawnie...uh, I think the kittens need some attention or something."  
  
"Tara!" Buffy whined, "She said I killed the kittens! And I didn't."   
  
Dawn stared at the floor guiltily. "I'm sorry, Buffy. But you did say..."  
  
"It's okay, Dawnie," Tara interrupted. "We know you were just concerned, right Buffy?"  
  
"I guess," Buffy muttered.   
  
"So you can take a nap now?" Tara asked hopefully.  
  
"Why are you obsessed with my sleep habits? Do you, like, get off on watching me sleep or something? God, Tara, that's sick."  
  
"Hey, you leave her alone!" Dawn said angrily.  
  
"Don't defend her, Dawn. Oh my god...she's gotten to you, hasn't she? She's turning you into one of them! I thought you two seemed awfully snuggly the other day-"  
  
"We fell asleep, waiting up for you might I add-" Tara began.  
  
"Christ, Tara, you molested my sister in her sleep? Is that how she caught it? Is that why you've gone gay, Dawnie? Don't worry, we can fix it...let me call Xander...uh, just wait here and don't mo...on second thought, come with me-"  
  
"_Buffy_!" Tara sat up, exasperated. "I've never laid a hand on Dawn. No offense, Dawnie, but you're not my type."  
  
"Hey!" Dawn glared.   
  
"And what about me? You were staring at me when I showered!"   
  
"Wait, you were ogling her rack but not mine? Mine are bigger!" Dawn looked highly insulted.   
  
"Fatty," Buffy muttered.  
  
"I was not looking at you!" Tara hollered, thoroughly exasperated. "And what if I was? So what? You should be flattered that someone in committed relationship dares to steal a glance-"  
  
"So you were looking." Buffy smirked triumphantly.  
  
Tara sighed and rolled her eyes. "Yes, Buffy. I was looking. You are just sooo sexy with your flat little butt, prominent clavicle and concave tummy. Just how I like my girls." Tara's voice slowly rose from bored to sultry. "In fact, I just can't stop thinking about you _alllllll _day, in your Doublemeat uniform, showering the demon guts from your impossibly blonde hair...it makes my heart beat just a little bit faster." Tara batted her eyelashes and smiled sweetly.   
  
Buffy blinked, looking the tiniest bit pale. Dawn looked baffled and slightly amused.   
  
"Tara, I...I..."  
  
Tara grinned to herself, silently glad that she was wearing her pajama top unbuttoned against the persistent muggy weather. She leaned forward slightly so that Buffy got a clear, unobstructed view of her breasts. Buffy stared openly, her mouth slightly open. "It's okay, Buffy," she purred, "you can look." She moved closer to the gaping Slayer, still smiling. "You can touch them if you like."  
  
"I...I...I think I need to lie down." Buffy turned on her heel and ran.  
  
Tara let loose with a fit of giggles and lay back on the bed, sighing happily.  
  
"Were you really going to let her..?" Dawn asked with a chuckle.  
  
"I figured it wouldn't come to that." Tara closed her eyes and yawned, snuggling back into her bed. Tequila clambered up the bedskirt and cuddled against her throat, purring. "Hey, fuzzy." Tara patted him. Finally, sleep enveloped her. 


	5. Cats in the Cradle, ch 5

TITLE Cats in the Cradle   
AUTHOR McKay  
E-MAIL BaybeeJuneataol.com, BaybeeJune on AIM   
RATING PG-13 for language and bathroom humor, heck, let's call it R just to be safe.  
SPOILERS None  
PAIRING T/W is vaguely mentioned, a little bit of T/B for the fun of it, Spike/Clem implied   
SUMMARY Clem's in need of a place to crash-along with some fuzzy friends.   
DISCLAIMER I don't own Tara, Buffy, Dawn, Clem, Spike, Willow, Sunnydale, CA, or anything worth suing for. Joss Whedon, Marti Noxious, et al, do. I do own the cats, a ruthlessly overactive imagination, a juvenile sense of humor and old sneakers.   
ARCHIVING/DISTRIBUTION Want it, take it, have it, just tell me where you wanna put it.   
FEEDBACK Honestly, I love it, but in the case of this story, it's not meant to be great, it's not meant to be an accurate representation of these characters (in fact it's meant to make fun of them, because I really don't like them right now). So you really don't need to point out what a ridiculous parody it is. It's SUPPOSED to be. That's all I'm saying. However, opinions are definitely welcome. Flames will be posted all around the Internet with your name attached so that people can laugh at you. Then I will send out my chocobo to hunt you down maim you. Kiwano _likes_ the feel of human flesh between his talons, don't you, boy? And we both despise flamers.  
AUTHOR'S NOTES I've always wondered what would send St. Tara to the breaking point...and I do so love Clem...anyway, like I said, it's a parody. Thanks to Miss Ellie for being my sounding board and a terrible influence ;) I think I had a reason for making Buffy a raging homophobe, but this fic got lost for a year, and by the time I found it again, I'd completely forgotten. But it's still making me laugh, so what the hell, eh? Probably something to do with how self-obsessed Buffy was being when I wrote this fic...and just because she was ticking me off and, again, this made me laugh. This is supposed to be exaggerated and somewhat ridiculous. Hopefully I captured the characters' mannerisms while destroying their actual character, or what remained of it after _Tabula Rasa_,the last good episode in _Buffy_ history...after which they all went to hell. Oh, and I think the entire cast is/was far skinnier than necessary, even by Hollywood's standards, by the end of the run.

This chapter is really short, but I think it stands best on its own.

----------------------------------

Tara was having a wonderful dream. She was lying on the beach at night under a gloriously full moon, having a blissful heavy petting session with that witch from _The Craft _who reminded her of her beloved Willow, when she found herself waking up despite her best efforts. _Oh damn, damn, come on, you can stay asleep, come on_... But her eyelids fluttered open despite herself and she gasped, jerking back and nearly rolling off the bed.   
  
"Sweet Mother Gaea on a pogo stick!" Buffy, in her untied bathrobe, was lying in bed beside her. "Buffy, what..?!"   
  
Buffy fidgeted with the hem of her robe. "Well, see, the thing is, I thought you were being really, really creepy, actually, and I got into bed and started thinking about it, and Dawn came in and we talked and she helped me see that I was the one being narrow-minded and offensive and bitchy, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I was upset was because I felt bad for _wanting_ it...I thought it was dirty and wrong and scary and it's _not_, it's...it's warm and gentle and beautiful, something I've never really had, and...I thought, why not? I love you, Tara, and I trust you."  
  
Tara didn't know whether to laugh, cry, scream, go kill Dawn, remain where she was and kill Buffy, or go back to sleep. "Oh, Buffy..." She sighed. "I didn't mean...I think you're beautiful, and I love you. But I didn't really mean...I'm committed to Willow."   
  
Buffy looked hurt and more than slightly embarrassed. Tara caught her wrist before she could leave. "I wish I could give it to you, Buffy, I do. You deserve to be loved like that. But I can't..."  
  
"You think I'm fat, don't you." Buffy said dejectedly.  
  
"No! Buffy, no."   
  
"I just want to not be a slampiece for once, you know? Angel, Riley, Sp-er, Parker...I was tits with a collection of orifices attached. Women...they aren't like that."  
  
Tara smiled gently. "Some are, I'm afraid."  
  
"But you're not."  
  
"No, I'm not," Tara agreed. "But...I'm not going to sleep with you, Buffy."  
  
"You didn't really try to seduce Dawn, did you?"  
  
Tara counted to ten, then twenty, reminding herself to breathe.  
  
"No."  
  
"You really don't think I'm fat?"  
  
"If you were any thinner, you could stake vampires with your elbows," Tara assured her.  
  
"Aw, really? Thanks, Tara, you're so sweet." Buffy skipped off and Tara closed her eyes again. "Oh, Tara?"  
  
_What now?!_ "Uh?"  
  
"We're going to the club where Clem works tonight. Clem called us. He said it's amateur night tonight, and Dawn really wants to go. You wanna come with?"  
  
"The drag club?"  
  
"That's the one."  
  
"What's the dress?" Tara yawned.  
  
"Casual, as far as I know."  
  
"Sure." Tara shrugged one shoulder. Why not?


End file.
